I'm working on the fourth chapter. I've re-written, or re-organized what I'd written, or thrown out what I'd written, the first half about a dozen times now. I feel like Cinderella sorting lentils from the ashes so that she can go to the ball: it's a task I'll never finish & so will never go on with my life.
I'm looking at chubby chick lit, whick I blogged about for the AFG site a while ago. This is on a grander scale & involves media figures & movies & TV as well as books.
It bugs the shit out of me when these books have the heroine newly thin after a hundred pound loss bouncing around in a bikini. As weird as I find Gwyneth Paltrow dressed up as a fat girl, the fat suit above is, at least, almost the truth of what deflates, what we are left with.
I'm on my food plan & today was a challenge. I'm boarding Mad Malachi, a three-year-old black Lab who is crazy like a rocket, & have Henry, a year-old Lab, around during the day. The mayhem was unbelieveable although Mally is at my left almost six hours after being sent home from any more World Class Wrestling & seems to be zonked. At 6 all I wanted to do was eat. I had breakfast again & as I was hefting my bowl to go get some more I thought, No. Not now. Let's see if you really want this, later.
We'll see how "later" goes. I've taken a Klonopin & may pass out soon.
The other problem is have is smoking vs. sugar-free calories.
Actually, that's TWO problems. The first is that I came back sick from seeing my parents, with a borderline bronchitis that has almost cleared up now. Smoking was not only bad for it, it tasted terrible & felt terrible. So I cut w-a-y back. I'm down to about a half a pack a day but the price is that when I'm out with the dogs -- or as betwitched by them as I was with Mally & Henry this afternoon -- I suck on sugar-free hard candy. It makes my tummy grumbly, is cloying, & distresses me. Gotta start watching this more carefully.
The second problem with sugar-free hard candy is that it claims to be FIFTY PERCENT LESS CALORIES.
Dear Sweet & Low,
I would like to apply for the position of grammar checking your products. Your butterscotch candies, which are not nearly as good as Werther's, by the way, are NOT fifty percent less calories. They are fifty percent FEWER calories.
I'm sure more literate consumers would buy your candies if the little wrappers that fall easily out of pockets and into the gutters would be more likely to purchase the Sweet & Low variety if only you fixed this simple but annoying problem.
I responded to an incredible post by Beula this morning that I'm realizing that every time I eat off my food plan, which is one of several first steps to the little hell I call Hating Myself, I'm handing victory to my enemies. The least I can do is not give them more than they already took. It's the thinking of someone who's angry. It would be about time I got angry except that I have to, one way or another, knock this chapter out.
I'm excessively tired of reading about fat chicks, dieting, addiction, et cetera. There's a biography of J.S. Bach on my bookshelf I want to read. Instead, having checked in without saying much of anything, I'm taking a Sarah Ferguson "inspirational" book to bed with Daisy & Malachi.
Sweet dreams everyone...
A black female Lyft driver who picked Jeffrey Tucker up in Atlanta...